He would let you ramble for hours on your daily hyperfixation be it the new anime you watch or plants you’ve been researching about hes all ears.
To be honest he just loves hearing you talk.
And when you have one of those days where your mind Disides to shut down he’s right here to catch you when you fall.
What type of lover would he be if he didn’t? You are his world after all!
That’s why he doesn’t take shit from anyone who critize’s your behavior. He knows the world is cruel he’s seen it first hand but for someone to inflict that cruelness onto the only thing he holds dear.
Well it’s enough to get his blood boiling and his hands gripping for his gun.
Of course he would never do it in front of you! He would never want to scare you.
That’s why at the end of the day when the sun finally sets and everything is just right. He ticks you into what would be more called a nest than a bed from the amount of plushies and blankets there are.
He pulls you towards him and whispers Sweet nothings into your ears. Until you eventually fall asleep.
Yes, sylus loves you oh so very much.
So don’t question why he has excessive amounts of blood coating him when he comes home.
Your teeth are pressed against the muscle of his bicep as if it's an ear of corn. Zayne is looking at you with only mild confusion, mixed with his usual level of exasperation.
"Isn't this why you workout?" You mumble around his arm, sinking your teeth in lightly. His brows knit at the slight pinch, but doesn't complain.
"I exercise for the health benefits. And...additional benefits. This is not one of them." He states pointedly, so you reluctantly release him, though you can't hide your smile seeing the faint teeth marks on his skin.
"You're the one always leaving hickies on me. Isn't it fair I get to leave marks on you too?"
Apparently, you make a convincing argument. Zayne pulls you into his lap, lips dangerously close to yours.
"In that case...bite wherever you like. I assume you'll offer the same to me?"
The screen door rattled in its frame, a loose screw buzzing against the aluminum as the late afternoon wind picked up. Outside, the sky was starting to turn gray but the kitchen still held the dry, baking heat of the day.
You stood by the sink, rinsing a bowl of strawberries, cold water splashing over your wrists. The hem of your white cotton sundress—thin and covered in tiny embroidered apples—brushed against your thighs every time you shifted your weight.
Caleb’s boots gave two heavy thuds on the porch before the door whined open. He smelled like sweat and gasoline, his throat coated in a fine layer of sawdust from the shed he’d been clearing out. He didn't say anything. He just dropped a heavy iron wrench onto the counter with a metallic thud that made the porcelain mugs rattle in the cupboard.
You turned your head, wiping your wet hands on the skirt of the dress. "The storm’s moving in fast. Did you get the—"
He was already in your space. His hand, dark with grease stains around the knuckles, came down flat against the laminate counter right next to your hip. He leaned in, his chest nearly brushing your shoulder.
""August, three years ago. You wore a dress just like this one for one of Grandma's Sunday dinner. The weather was exactly like this."
"I remember. You barely said two words to me that day and spent the whole afternoon fixing her lawnmower."
"Because I couldn't trust myself to open my mouth," Caleb rasped, his chin brushing your shoulder, breath hot against your neck. "You sat on the porch swing. Every time you kicked your feet to keep it moving, the skirt would part, and I could see the soft skin on the inside of your knees. I was under that damn mower, covered in oil, with my teeth clenched so hard my jaw ached for three days."
"Caleb—"
"I also spent hours imagining exactly how loud that fabric would rip if I caught you by the waist and pinned you against the screen door."
Your breath hitched, a small, dry sound in the quiet house.
"That's the sound you made in my head, too."
Your chest rose and fell in a quick, shallow breath. The air between you felt thick, charged like the sky outside.
He didn't untie the small bow at the shoulder, he just pulled, exposing the curve of your breast to the air coming through the open windows.
A small gasp caught in your throat, your hands automatically coming up to touch his chest, your fingers bunching into his damp grey shirt.
Caleb didn't give you time to think. He hooked his hands under your thighs and lifted you straight onto the counter.
He crowded between your knees, his heavy thighs forcing yours apart.
"I built these counters two inches higher than standard," he whispered, his mouth hovering over yours, his breath smelling faintly of the black coffee he'd had at noon. "You know why?"
You shook your head, your fingers digging into his shoulders as the heat of his groin pressed hard against yours.
"So I wouldn't have to bend down when I did this," he said, and then his mouth crashed into yours.
His kiss tasted of salt. He bit your lower lip just hard enough to make you whine into his mouth, his tongue taking up all the space, relentless and heavy. His hand slid down between your bodies, long fingers grouping the lace of your underwear and shoving it aside.
When his fingers found your bare skin you arched off the counter, your head hitting the wooden cabinet door behind you with a dull thud. You were already slick, the sound of his voice having done most of the work.
"Yeah," Caleb muttered against your lips, his thumb finding the small, swollen center of you and pressing down with a rhythmic friction that made your toes curl. "Let me hear you, baby"
"Caleb, the windows—" you choked out, your hands flying to his hair.
"Let them hear," he growled, his fingers sliding inside you, two of them stretching you wide, filling the ache until you were panting, your hips jerking against his hand in short, helpless motions. He didn't stop, his thumb circling your clit until your breath turned into broken stabs of sound.
When he felt you were getting close he pulled his fingers out with a wet slide, leaving you empty and shivering. Before you could complain, his hands were at his belt, the heavy brass buckle clinking as he yanked it free. He didn't take his jeans off, he just pulled his cock out and lined himself up against you.
A deep, slow thrust buried him completely inside you. Your breath left your lungs in a sharp cry, legs instantly locking around his waist, pulling him deeper as the first roll of thunder finally broke outside.
Remember this list👇? Guess who's working on it? 😝😝
Lmao Goodbye. Bunny does not play around, especially when it comes to you. He glares at people who stare at you too long. Those who dare to do more? He's throwing a punch as a reflex.
If someone comes to break up the fight, he'll grab the other person and whack the catcaller with them. You'll have to sit there awkwardly offering some context to the horrified pedestrians who think there' s a hunter/police brutality situation going on.
Zayne
Terrifyingly composed. The only reaction he'll show is tensing his shoulders, but otherwise he remains unreadable. He simply walks up to the man and calmly says, "I beg your pardon?"
Now imagine how portentous it is to have a 6ft man squaring up to you, frame eclipsing the sun as he quietly demands no, challenges you repeat the words he clearly heard the first time. If the catcaller hasn't tripped over himself trying to run already, Zayne would unassumingly straighten his collar, and dust his shoulder a little too hard, "Careful there brother, I almost thought you said something" :).
Immediately turns to make sure you're okay afterwards, "Don't be bothered by trash like them love."
Rafayel
On a good day he stops dead in the tracks, stares at the cat caller and laughs. Then he points at him and starts what you can only call obliterating the man into humiliation. "No no no. not you. You cannot possibly be that delusional. How can a pathetic, reeking, broke, balding, saggy-ass bitch even think of hitting on her?!" His theatrics always gathers a crowd and then everyone starts throwing the man dirty looks. Rafayel finally backs away after making an absolute joke of the guy.
On a bad day, he catcalls him back. You have no idea how or why Rafayel is so good at sexually harassing other men, but it works every time. And to watch the horror dawn on the man's face as he attempts to flee is quiet satisfying.
Sylus
The cat caller would have to be straight up blind for even attempting something like that with Sylus around. But thankfully for the catcaller, he is subjected the lesser of two evil. aka you. Because no one, and I mean no one catcalls a hunter on Linkon streets.
See, Sylus would have done something, if you'd let him, but he decides to keep eating his ice cream as you beat the shit out of the guy. Damn him if does anything to break it up, because as of now he is extremely turned on.
Caleb
ahahhahaha. Anything you think is too much, Caleb is 10 times worse. He's already thinking of scenarios that belong in the SAW franchise. But he can't act that way with pips around >:(, this idiot has probably already ruined your mood. So he just pulls his classic move and goes up to the man grinning, slapping his back and boisterously nudging him around like they're best buds, until he finds an appropriate trashcan and in the man goes. Right where he belongs.
If the cat caller somehow escapes his fate of being stuffed in a trashcan there and then, he's gonna find out his house detonated, his bank account is frozen and he's being tracked by the military. Don't mess with gege.
Zayne stares at the cards in his hands — a sigh was already building up within his chest, this was the third time you had bested him based solely on luck, it was getting to him.
He leaned forward, focused his honeyed eyes on the tiny cats. The table creaked slightly, almost as if his gaze too much.
"Admit defeat, Zay." You smirk, your arms crossed, and your chest puffed up.
"If you wish." He leans back on his chair, "Zayne admits defeat," he finally let's the sigh out.
Small kittens lean forward in their cups, the blue lines of misery voicing their opinions for them.
"Wow... you actually did admit defeat." You blink.
Zayne stands up, dark colored tufts of hair swaying in the AC air. He leaned forward lightly, picked up the board, and placed it on his seat. All without a word.
At first, you were confused, your mind trying to understand as to what your Zayne may be up to. What would be so pressing for him to empty the old rickety metal table.
Then — you were on the table. Back flat against the cold metal.
Two arms surrounded you, one on the right and one on the left of you.
Your vision was suddenly full of nothing but Zayne. His black shirt, the one he wears almost every day, turns the interior of his apartment into a void. From this distance, you can smell his cologne, subtle notes of vanilla and hospital cleaning chemicals, though the latter was probably not intended.
"Zayne wha-" Your words stop midway.
He crashed his lips against your own.
"I may have accepted defeat in this game." He detaches from you slightly to speak, "But I can win in other ways."
sylus x reader x rafayel (could be platonic too but i love my homos too much) where sylus finds out that rafayel has catphobia so he exclusively calls mc kitten whenever raf is around to piss him off LMAO
and then raf gets pissed because how could sylus compare his adorable cutie to that hideous monster
emmy!! :D this idea is so so cute, i tried my best to bring it to life while putting a little spin on it...hope you like it hehe (ik it's not completely what you asked for but this is the best my brain could come up with 😭)
𝖢ɑ𝗍 𝖦𝗈𝗍 ɣ𝗈υ𝗋 Τ𝗈𐓣𝗀υ౿?
"AhhhHHHHH! GET AWAY! GET AWAY!"
Sylus bursts through the door a second later, one hand still clenching the metal knob he accidentally yanked off and the other doused in reddish black swirls, ready for attack.
"Rafayel! What's going—oh no." The white-haired man's evol instantly dissipates, the same hand now reaching up to pinch his nose bridge at the scene before him.
Because Rafayel the sea god, the assassin, a man revered by even N109's greatest foes, now cowers in the corner of their bedroom with a fireplace poker in hand. Over a cat.
"STAY BACK you wretched beast! Sylus, grab that thing while I'm fending it off!"
Raf then jabs the stick towards you for further emphasis. You peer back at Sylus, your tail swishing annoyedly from where you lounge along the bed, unimpressed.
"…meow."
₍^. .^₎⟆
Rafayel just stares wide-eyed at you now curled up across from him in Sylus's lap, the Lemurian for once completely at a loss for words.
Eventually, he finds the ability to speak again.
"So that's—"
"Y/n, yes."
"And it's—"
"Temporary."
"But how—"
"From an unknown metaflux complication. The Association sent out an alert this morning when she arrived at the house then..transformed shortly after."
Raf nods absentmindedly, his rounded eyes never once straying from yours. You frown and tilt your head at him.
"Meow?"
(So are we okay?)
Rafayel smiles sheepishly.
"Meow, meow."
(Yeah, we are.)
You jump off Sylus and onto the couch, easing your way over until you sit inches away from your other partner. Slowly, the purple-haired man uncrosses his legs and carefully picks you up before hugging you to his chest, rubbing his nose against yours, you curling into his arms and purring at the sensation.
Sylus's heart warms for all of three seconds before the two of you start an immediate gossip session in a language he doesn't understand.
"Meow meow meow!"
(Raf you won't believe what I can do!)
"Meow?"
(Like what?)
"Meow, meow meow! …meow meow."
(I'm so agile now, and my sense of smell is off the charts! …um don't tell Sylus but his feet really stink.)
Rafayel bursts out laughing and even you hiss in amusement, your tail waving happily in the air.
Sylus huffs at the sense the joke is about him and quirks a brow. "What's so funny?"
The two of you pause and look at each other.
"Uh nothing."
Sylus tsks at his boyfriend's burning red ears before turning to glower at you.
"Don't lie to me, kitten."
"EW! Don't call her that! She's not one of them!" Rafayel retorts, immediately bringing you up closer to him until your face squishes against his cheek.
"M-meow!" you grit out from the intensity of his hold.
(I-it's okay!)
"No cutie, I won't stand for it!" Yet he stands up anyway while still cradling you like something fragile. "We'll see you later, Sylus."
"And where are you two going?" The red-eyed man asks, an amused smirk now fixed on his lips.
"My studio. We're going to go harass the seagulls."
"MEOW!"
ginny's note: never written crowfish before but ugh i love their pairing so much!! this was fun to write, hopefully it didn't turn out too silly LOL
puppy boy caleb, who paws at your lap while you're rummaging through some documents from work, trying to focus and get something done while he keeps whimpering and crying, looking up at you with those big violet eyes and one single wish.
"5 minutes...? just 5... i swear, it won't be like last time!" but both of you are aware it will be just like last time, where he wraps his big hands around your thighs, eyes half-lidded, tail wagging so hard you think it might fall off and ears pushed back in his head in pure daze. "just want to taste you a little, please..."
and you can't focus on anything anymore, so you sigh and eventually look at where he sits in front of your lap. it must be the prettiest sight you've ever seen. your puppy is pouting while looking up with those sweet eyes like he needs something to drink now, or he might cry.
and your heart skips a beat when you eventually spread your legs, and he almost turns into another person, grabbing your thighs, pulling your shorts down, already sniffing your panties, tail wagging contently as he mumbles with his voice muffled. "th-thank you... thank you. mmh–... tastes so good..."
